My Angel
by AnimeGirl19984
Summary: England had always been bitter and lonely, but he never meant to hurt him. He didn't know what it was like to love someone like this. He never knew what was going in the crazy head of his. Why was he feeling this way towards the man?
1. The Encounter

**Hey guys! So here is my fourth story, and I hope you like it! I tried to keep in characters with most of them, but there might be some OOCness. I'll try my best not to let that happen though!**

**I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters.**

"You think you can defeat me like that amigo?!" a man with a slight Spanish accent teased.

Spain smiled his usual grin, filled with malice as he looked down. He wore an elegant green robe with delicate gold stitching etched on the sleeve and on the outer lines; his fancy pirate hat off to the side of his tousled brown hair.

"What a shame! And I thought you were the great British Empire!" he boasted, holding his blade at his victim's throat and stepping onto the bare chest of the other nation.

The blonde Brit scowled at the Spaniard, helplessly trapped under the man's foot and blade. His clothing was seared with cuts and was tainted with his own blood. His body was cut up, but the bleeding had stopped from each of them.

"Don't think too highly of yourself, you bloody git!" he growled as the tip of the blade inched closer to his throat. He could feel the blood dripping down his neck as a small cut was made.

"You'll never win. I'll _never_ surrender to someone like you!" England said, spitting as much hate as he could possibly summon.

Spain's grin grew wider, his emerald green eyes glaring at the Brit. "I'm afraid you have. Admit it. I win. _Usted no puede posiblemente esperan salir de esta,_" he said softly, raising the blade up to England's chin.

"Don't worry Britain, a great empire like you won't be forgotten. But it is a shame to see you go so soon." He laughed manically as he raised his sword. In one swift move, he brought the sword down in a swipe.

England woke up, his palms and face was sweating. He gripped his nightshirt, trying to feel his heart beat. _Thump. Thump. Thump. _He took in short, shallow breaths as he pulls himself out of his senses. That bloody Spanish git! How dare he mock the great and powerful England? The blonde cursed at himself. How could he have thought it was real? That Spain has never won anything against him before! That's right! But, he still had an uneasy feeling, recalling all the things that happened in the dream.

After waking up, England got dressed and went downstairs to make some breakfast. 'Hm. What shall I eat today….' He pondered. He could always make his world famous scones, but he debated against it. He was tired of having to deal with the smoke and the fire alarm around the stove. Maybe just a nice cup of tea will do.

There was an unexpected knock at the door. The Brit stopped abruptly and stared in the direction of the entrance.

"Who the bloody hell is visiting me?" He said aloud, though he didn't mean to. Without a response, his door busted open and in a quick blur, he saw a brown colored jacket and blonde hair charging at him as he was taken by surprise.

"DUUUUUDDDDEE!" He yelled, slamming the other country against the wall. England's head snapped forward from the impact, feeling dizziness in his head.

"America! You idiot! What was that for!" he said angrily, flashing the American glares. "In what world gives you the right to break into my bloody home?!"

America answered it by laughing, patting his head. "You're funny Britain! Anyways, I'm here to tell you that the meeting will be at my place! It's going to be AWE-SOME!" He boasted, the obnoxious smile glued to his perfect face.

The older nation scoffed, snapping his head to the side to get America out of his view. "And what makes you think I'll be coming to the meeting?" America stared at the blonde, his face blank and expressionless as if he was confused.

"Dude, you have to come! It's at my place after all! AND IT'S A MEETING! You can't just miss out on a world meeting!" England frowned, knowing that he was right, though he didn't want to admit it.

Several moments passed without any of the nations talking.

"Fine! I'll be at the stupid meeting! But don't expect me to stay long if you keep shoving your mouth with those _wretched _burgers of yours!" As if on cue, the younger nation was stuffing his face in a juicy burger.

"WHaaaaa? Buff theeze r good!" he said through a full mouth.

It took Britain a lot of effort to not smack his former colony right now. Instead, he shoved America out his broken door and kicked him out. He was in no mood to deal with his shenanigans. He had other important matters to attend to, like getting the cup of tea he had planned.

"…..So we need to solve world hunger buy giving everyone burgers!" yelled America. An argument broke out to testify against America's idiotic response.

"You idiot! World hunger can't be easily solved like that! Where do we get the bloody supplies? And why your burgers?!" England argued back.

"Ohonhonhon~ At least he's thinking about other people, and not himself like someone I know!" France said with a laugh, staring at the blonde haired Englishman.

England shot him a glare, frustration getting the best of him.

"What did you say you bloody frog?" he repented, grabbing the French's collar.

"I'll have you know I'm not a narcissist as you, you bloody wanker!"

"Black sheep of Europe!"

Punches were thrown around between the two countries, causing a giant commotion in the meeting room. Another blonde haired nation covers his face with his hand, trying to calm down before he totally loses it.

"Vhy must all meetings end in fights?" he groaned, his German accent clearly heard.

"Ve~ don't worry Germany! It will be ok when the pasta comes, right?" Italy commented, daydreaming about pasta now.

A short Asian nation slouched down in his seat as he tries to 'read the atmosphere' and refrained from speaking. A tall, white haired man stood over the two European nations as they fought, laughing and smiling as he enjoyed himself.

"Little countries are so entertaining!" Immediately the two nations stopped at his feet, looking up at the Russian.

"Kesesesese~ Zhe awesome Prussia is here! Bow to me now!" echoed a voice from behind the meeting doors.

America, who was stuffing his face with fries and soft drinks, paused for a moment and watched the doors open, revealing the albino man. He had a confident smile on his pale face, his white hair dropped down on his face, and his ruby eyes looking determined.

"Bruder!?" Germany gasped in horror, wondering what his sibling was up to. "Vhat are you doing here?"

"Kesesese~ To attend the meeting of course!" He said matter-of-factly. Shoving the French nation off, England managed to get up and brush of the dust from his uniform.

"Meetings are for mature nations only, Prussia," he scowled, glancing at the new nation. "That means _you _shouldn't be here."

Prussia just laughed it off, giving the British nation a defiant look. "I _am_ mature. Can't you see zhat I am vearing my awesome, 'mature' suit?"

He smirked, scanning the other nation to see what he would do. He snorted, giving the albino the cold shoulder as he headed for his seat. England did not want to continue the argument, seeing as he won't be leaving anytime soon. The former Tectonic Knight took a seat next to his little brother, smiling brightly.

"Alright dudes! Now! Back to business! I'd say we figure out a way to- HEY WAIT!" America said suddenly.

"Why is Prussia here? He's not even a country!" he pointed out, as if he forgotten that the dissolved nation was there.

"Ha! That's what I was trying to say!" Britain said victoriously, shooting Prussia a stare. "He shouldn't be here _because _he's not a nation! After all, this is for _real _nations! Not for some former piece of land!"

There was silence in the room as the Brit shot Prussia and killing look. He was right, of course. He always is. He smirked, knowing that he can't be proven wrong now. His smile instantly wiped off his face as he stared at the albino, seeing the pain and the struggle to keep the tears back in his eyes.

"You're vight. I shouldn't be here." With that, the great Prussia stood up and walked out the room, leaving the other nations in a state of shock.

**So chapter 1 is done! I do plan on continuing the story, so please be patient! I would also love to see some reviews and some critiques on how I can write better! Also I'm sorry if the story is a little bit too short! Thanks a bunch and I hoped you enjoyed reading this! :D**


	2. Compromise

**Hey! Sorry it's been so long since I've updated this story! School has been pretty busy lately, and I apologize in advance! I'll try to be more active in updating, but I might be a little slow, so be patient! Anyways, here's the next chapter for you guys! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Hetalia or Hetalia itself.  
**

* * *

"Dude, Britain! You didn't have to be so harsh man!" America commented, glancing over at the Brit.

"Und now I have to go and comfort him. Zhanks a lot Britain," Germany scowled, getting up to go after Prussia.

"Ve~ I'll go with you Germany!" the Italian country hugged Germany from behind, his eyes still a little sleepy from his short nap.

"Si, you should have been so harsh amigo," said a Spanish man.

"Shut up Spain! Wait- When did you get here?!" he shook his head, deciding it was the least of his problem to wonder where he came from.

The English nation stared after the entrance, baffled at the revelation. Now the countries were _against _him. He bit his lips, cursing at himself. All of the other nations looked at him expectantly, all except Germany who was on his way out the door, dragged along with Italy.

"Wait, Germany. I'll go and apologize to him." The Brit said, heading for the door already.

The said nation only gave a hmph, but he let Britain go instead. "Italy, get off my leg now!" He demanded, trying to pry his companion off.

The doors closed behind England as he paced through the corridors of the place. Around every corner he would check to see if he could see the Prussian man. After he wandered around for a couple minutes, the blonde sighed in defeat as the other nation is nowhere to be found. He sat down on a nearby bench out in the hallways and hung his head down low in defeat.

"Where could that bloody Prussia be…" he murmured, half-expecting the ex-nation to appear just then. When no signs showed the albino coming, England covered his face in his hands as his stress level proceeds to soar up.

"Vhy are jou following me?" an all too familiar voice rang in the blonde's head. He looked up and was surprised to see the former Tectonic Knights leaning against the opposite wall, his head hung low as he looked at the ground. Prussia glanced up, his gleaming red eyes focused on the man who had insulted and humiliated him in front of the other nations as he crosses his arms.

"Oh, there you are Prussia. I was just looking for you…" England said with a gulp. "Listen…. I wanted to…" he pried for the right words, but something in his pride prevented him from saying it.

"Vhat? Vhat did jou vant?" Prussia said with impatience. His slender hand was tapping on his elbow, waiting for the other nation to answer.

England swallowed one last time before deciding that it was best to apologize now, or else he won't be able to later. "I-I…. wanted to say I'm sorry." He said in a strained voice, gripping his chest. Was it always this hard for him? "I-I didn't mean what I said back there. I am truly….sorry." He glanced up, expecting to see the other nation glaring at him, but was taken aback.

Prussia was smiling. Smiling like his usual self as he let out a soft chuckle. What was so funny? "Don't vorry. I vasn't offended. Much." The albino said with a smirk as a small yellow bird lands on his right shoulder. "Isn't zhat right, Gilbird?" He said glancing over to his little companion. The bird gave a single tweet as it nods in agreement.

The great British nation gapped in astonishment. "A-are you sure?" uncertainty filled his voice. Somehow he couldn't believe Prussia would be so… forgiving. The silver haired man nods, snickering at the Brit's expression.

"Listen, if jou vant to make it up, buy me pancakes tomorrow!" he said in a somewhat teasing tone. "And something for Gilbird too!" the bird tweets and flaps its little wings, happy that it might be getting something. The yellow creature flew over to the blonde and perches on his shoulder. It chirped a lovely melody as it swayed back and forth on Britain's military uniform.

"Gilbird! Come back jou little freak!" Gilbert scolded the small creature, but despite that, the bird continues to linger on the other nation's shoulder.

England was absolutely dumbfounded. The great former Tectonic Knight, the one who conquered almost all of Europe and was merciless, was forgiving him so easily. On the other hand, he didn't want to test the other's limits, so instead he smiles along. He had to admit, Prussia's enthusiasm was contagious.

"Of course. I shall get you some tomorrow, Prussia," Britain said as he stood up from his seat. He stood in front of the man and held out a hand, which Prussia took and shook vigorously.

"Don't forget! Kesesese~!" Prussia replied with a giant grin plastered on his face and pulled England in to pat him on the back. "Now, go back to zhe meeting before mein bruder comes and forces you!"

England let out a chuckle. "Very true. Well, farewell until then I guess?" He gestured a goodbye with a salute and started to head back to the meeting. The blonde couldn't help but continue to smile as the heavy guilt was lifted off of his chest. 'Until then.' He thought as his heart seemed to beat faster.

* * *

Britain opened up the door and was not at all disappointed at what lay in front of him. In fact, it terrified him. A tall, 'chunky' Russian man was plopped on the ground, his eyes closed as if he was sleeping. He blocked most of the door, but the British man managed to barely slide through.

"You will become one with Russia, da?" the giant nation said with a snide look. It seemed like he was crushing someone underneath him as he jumped up and landed straight down.

"Sacre blue! How much do you weigh Russia!" A blonde man said with an exasperated breath. Tear were practically streaming down the Frenchman's face as he endured the back pain from the cold climate nation. "S'il vous plait! Please! I beg you! Please get off me!" France pleaded with an agonized look.

"Ha! Russia, dude! I think you're heavier than me!" America retorted as he sipped his cola drink. He pumped a fist up in the air, as if it was a victory that someone was heavier than the young blonde nation.

The American quickly regretted it as he felt an evil presence behind him. He gulped down his last sip of soda as fear quickly dawned in on him to who it was. "Dude….i was kidding…. Hahaha…. Get it?" Alfred said with a shaky smile, trying to lighten up the Russian's mood.

"I don't get it, da…" Russia said in a voice full of malice. England stealthily manages to sneak out the door as he senses many bad things were going to happen to his former colony. He would help America out in any situations; there was no question about it. The only exception though, was against the light haired nation of Russia.


	3. Unexpected Guest

The next morning came by with ease as the sun softly rose up from behind to outskirts of land, showing its many hues of red, orange, and red. The blonde nation of England was still tucked in bed, quietly murmuring something in his sleep. His messy hair was tousled to the side from yet another restless night. He was finally got some 'peaceful' rest, or at least that was what could be perceived from his relaxed face.

A knock boomed throughout the British mansion, waking the Brit up. He adjusted himself to lean on one arm; the other rubbing his face as he groggily stood up.

"Who the bloody hell is at my door," he complained, hoping it's not that stupid American again. Ever since the last visit, he had his door reinforced with steel hinges. And a second door…with more locks on it.

It took awhile for Britain to untangle through the mess of locks and opened the door slightly ajar. "Yes? Who is?" he said with a gruff voice.

"Did jou forget zhe promise already?" said a heavily accented voice from the door. A tall Prussian man stood in the door, wearing a casual semi and jeans, his ghastly silver hair covering part of his face. Perched on top of his shoulder was his little companion, singing a tune in reply to the several other tweets from the outside.

England ruffled the back of his head, making his blonde hair even messier than it was before. "O-oh. Of course not! I didn't forget!" he said hastily. He was not a used to having people come over to his house, especially for food. "U-uh. Come on in Prussia. Make yourself at home!" He opened the door so that the ex-nation could come in.

"Just…let me get dressed first. I apologize if I look…less than presentable," the Brit said with a half hearted chuckle as he lead Prussia to the dining room.

"Ja ja. Go ahead. I can vait," the albino said nonchanlantly, making himself comfortable as he took a seat and rested his feet on the table. He leaned back in his chair and stretches his arms by putting them over his head.

With a nod, England hurried to his room upstairs to get changed (not to mention fix his hair) before shuffling back down the stairs to the Prussian. He grabbed his coat that was hanging on a nearby chair by the kitchen and puts it on. "Let me go buy you the pancakes. It won't take long-"

"Vhat? Jou are going to buy zhe pancakes?" Prussia said in surprised tone. "I thought jou were vere going to make it!" Gilbird chirped along, flapping its wings.

Britain's eyes widen as he stared at the visiting nation with disbelief. "W-what?" he said, his mouth gapped as he tried to find words to describe his astonishment. "Y-you want me to make it?"

The silver haired man smirked and nodded his head. "Ja. I heard jour pancakes vere zhe best!"

Obliviously it was meant sarcastically by whoever said it, but despite that England felt obliged to. "Of-of course! I'll get right on it!" he said with some pep in his voice. He was actually going to _cook_ for someone, and that someone wasn't forced to eat it! 'Take that America! And you too you bloody frog!' England thought victoriously as he took off his jacket in exchange for a kitchen apron.

After many failed attempts at trying to make a pancake (and the smoke alarm going off more than a few times), England comes out with a plate full of the food, some dark smog on his right cheek. He gave a cough as some smoke entered his lungs. To everyone's surprise, the pancakes weren't burnt, crisp, on fire, or alive but rather 'normal'. Now the real test is how it tastes…

"There you go Prussia. One full plate of pancakes!" England said proudly, an obnoxious smile on his face. Prussia was raring to wolf down the plate, but stopped himself when he realized something was missing.

"Vere is zhe syrup?" the albino inquired, looking at the bland meal. His crimson eyes glanced up at England expectantly, but only noticed the nation scratching the back of his head. With a shrug, the great Prussia picked up a fork and started to eat, occasionally feeding Gilbird a couple bites. Within minutes, he had cleared the plate empty.

"U-uh…" England started to say, but was reluctant. This man had just eaten 14 pancakes within just three minutes _and _isn't falling over with dread. "H-how was it?"

The former Tectonic Knight patted his full stomach and took a deep breath. The yellow chick was lying flat on the table, passed out from the amount of food it had ingested. "Zhat was veally good!" he said with laugh. "Zhe best!" a wide grin came on his face as he gazed up at England head-on.

Flabbergasted, the blonde nation tried to utter some words, but only managed a soft croak. Prussia actually _liked _his cooking. In fact he had just called it _the best_. The _best_. He certainly was not expecting that and froze in his spot.

"England?" the albino stood up and was now in front of the Brit. "Hello?" he said, waving his hand in front of the other nation's face. It took awhile before England came to his senses and snapped out of his trance.

"O-oh. Pardon me…I…wasn't…uh…paying attention," he said quietly, still not quite over the trauma. Prussia laughed and patted the blonde hard on his back.

"Jou should cook more often! Keseses~!" the silver-haired man said and wrapped his arm around England's neck, transferring some of his weight onto the other nation. Being unstable as he was, England tilted a bit to the other side but managed to stay upright as the Prussian leaned on him.

"O-oh thank you for the compliments Prussia-"

"Call me Gilbert!" he said with an obnoxious grin. "Ve're buds now, aren't ve?" Gilbert said with a smirk.

"Ah… right. Gilbert. Thank you for the compliments. I honestly haven't had anyone eat my food before so…" England said with nervous chuckle.

"Say, England-"

"Please, call me Arthur. It would only be appropriate if I am to call you Gilbert now," England said with a grin.

Gilbert laughed and patted the blond nation on the shoulder. "Vorzüglich! Vill be zhe best of friends now, no? Kesesese~! Of course zhat means joure going to be vith mein friends Spain and France!" he went over to the table to pick up the poor unconscious bird up. "Vake up Gilbird! No time to be snoozin'!" he said as he poked the yellow chick's stomach. The little creature chirped tiredly as it turned in his palms, waving one of its wings to tell him to go away. Arthur chuckled at the comical sight, wiping his dirty hands on the kitchen apron.

"Oh dear no. Not that bloody frog," he cringed at the thought of being _friends _with the very nation that has always taunted him since he was young. Wanting to change the subject, he glanced over at the feathered creature. "He's a very cute bird, Gilbert," the name was still unfamiliar as he said it, but thought he would get a used to it eventually.

Prussia was still trying to wake his companion up, but quickly gave up as he found it was futile. "Ja, he is, but he's very lazy. Say, Arthur, can I perhaps stay over for awhile?" the albino asked, his ruby eyes darted at the British nation. "Mein bruder vont let me back at the house until night time," he said nonchalantly as if it's happen many times before, which it has.

"U-uh. I guess you can, seeing as there's no one else at home with me," Arthur said, caught off guard yet again.

"Great! Zhat means a lot to me!" the former nation said, relief flooding his mind. "After all, I don't have anything else to do, except maybe….." he smirked, plotting something in his mischievous mind.


	4. Magic

**Hey guys! I'm so sorry for the slow updates! But to be honest, I sorta lost interest in writing. But I will try to update more frequently now! Thank you to AsianBlackChesire and Wolfy46 for the reviews! I really appreciate it! I also decided to change the title of the story. Now, on with the PrUk~!**

**I Do Not Own Any Of The Hetalia Characters.**

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England gave Prussia a conspicuous look, shuddering a little at what might be going on in the albino's head…

"…What?" The Brit asked with caution. In response, all the albino gave him was a smile. Shivers went down his spine as he imagined what would happen next.

"Jou wouldn't mind if I roamed around the house, ja?" Prussia asked as he wrapped his arm around the blonde's neck.

"W-what? Why would you ask something absurd like that?" Arthur scowled, clearly taken aback. After seeing the bulging red eyes of the Prussian with tears, he reluctantly sighed. "Alright…but only if I come along with you. There are rooms that are off-limits." England pinched the top of nose as Gilbert sprang away and danced around the Brit with glee, almost gloating at his victory.

* * *

"…and this is where my library is," Arthur showed, pointing over to his left. He looked over his shoulder to make sure the albino was still following.

"Ja, I see. Jou know, I thought it vas a room vith random books around zhe shelves if jou hadn't said it vas a library," Prussia snickered. The former nation snickered even more at the sight of England's frustration. "Kesesese~!"

"Yes. Well. Let's just continue, shall we?" The British nation said, trying to keep his nerves from lashing out. He led the Prussian down the corridors of his lovely home, explaining each and every room they come across on. "This here is my office.." Arthur glanced back to see if Gilbert was listening. To his surprise, no one was there.

He frantically searched around for any signs of the white haired man. "Gilbert? Where the bloody hell are you?" He shouted down the halls.

He started to panic when nothing stirred, not even the sound of the Prussian's footsteps. Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed something strange farther down the dark halls. At the end, there was a door, slightly ajar with a dim light illuminating from it.

_'No. No no no. Please tell me he didn't go in there.' _Hysteria dawned in on the blonde as he sprinted towards the door, which was growing brighter and brighter with a dark blue hue. As soon as he reached the door, England exploded into the room, nearly tripping forward.

To his bewilderment, the Brit found the Prussian near his alchemy table, casually flipping the pages in his forbidden spell book. It took a moment before Gilbert turned around to face Arthur.

"Oh hallo Arthur!" he said with cheeriness. He waves at the blonde, a smirk on his face as he continued to turn the pages in the book. "Hope jou don't mind, but I vanted to explore a little bit on my own."

"You- you little..!" England bit down on his lips hard, trying to restrain from cursing in front of the albino. He slowly counted to ten, taking deep breaths in between each count. "I thought I already told you…Gilbert, that there were some areas that were off limits.." he stressed the last words, though the Prussian hardly noticed.

"Ja, I know. But I vanted to.." Gilbert tilted his head slightly over his shoulder and smirked,"..see how jou vould react. Und I am zhe awesome Prussia!"

The blonde's blood started to boil as irritation sneaked up on him. "W-why you b-bloody no good wan-!"

"Hey, Arthur, are jou any good vith magic?" Gilbert asked, interrupting his host's sentence.

"Wha-? What kind of question is that?" the Brit responded with a baffled look. "Such an absurd question to be asking at the moment!" he fumed.

"So does zhat mean no? 'Course it does. Zhe awesome me didn't expect jou to!" the albino snickered. "Oh vell. Guess I expected too much of jou.."

Arthur stared at the man in annoyance. This man irked him so… "Wait just a minute there! How dare you come to the conclusion that I can't perform magic? Give me that!" the Brit yelled, snatching the spell book from Gilbert's hands. He could hear the albino giving a satisfied snicker and glanced up to see a victorious grin on the man's face.

The European scowled at him, feeling an overwhelming embarrassment. However, he did not want to admit that he was tricked. 'That sneaky wanker…' he scorned in his head. Somehow seeing the Prussian's amused face though, lightened that hatred.

"Vell? Aren't jou going to do something?" Gilbert asked in a mocking tone as he shortened the distance between the two. Their eyes were leveled with each other, green on red, as the glared intensely at each other.

"Of course I'm going to do something! But I need to make sure that you-"the Brit shoved his finger into Gilbert's chest, "-don't do _anything _to mess me up."

The smirk widened on the Germanic countries' face and shot the blonde a challenging glare. "I'm afraid I can't guarantee it, but I shall do mien best not to," he said with a soft chuckle.

Arthur gave a dissatisfy grunt, but really, what else did he expect from the albino? He was nothing like his brother, Germany. Not one bit. "Fine. But you need to wear these for protection," the Brit grabbed a pair of black gloves from his desk and shoved it into the Prussia's chest. "You're going to need it if you want to participate in what I'm about to perform," he said quickly before Gilbert was about to ask why.

England lead Prussia to the center of his pentagram in the middle of the room and had him stand there with his hands clasped together. Around the albino, symbols of daemonic and angelic runes adorned the ground with a sickly purple light emanating from it. Gilbert glanced up at Arthur; fear flickered in his red eyes as he tried to process the thoughts going through his mind.

"A-Arthur? V-vhat am I doing in here? I zhought jou vere going to do some magic.." the Tectonic Knight said in a quivered voice. The blonde chuckled as he paced outside of the circle.

"I thought you wanted to be part of the magic, no? It was you, after all, who asked me to perform this," Arthur said with a smirk and opened his spell book.

"B-but I never-"

"Now. For this to work, you must focus on what's going to be inside your hand, as it is clasped together right now," England interrupted, disregarding whatever Prussia was going to say. "You must visualize every little detail on the item that you want to make. Understand?"

"V-vait vhat?! Jou expect me to make something?" the former knight gasped. It was at these times where he can't trust his hearing. Gilbert's face flushed a deathly white as the corners of the Brit's mouth curved up into a smile.

"Yes, of course you are. Just anything small will do. It doesn't take much, and it's the most simplistic magic that I can show you. Without harming you of course," he said, teasing the other nation. The former nation's face paled even more, silently praying and regretting his choice.

"Now. Think of something and we shall initiate," Arthur said calmly.

A moment a silence echoed through the room. Gilbert silently closed his eyes and clasped his hands tighter. He feared about what might appear in his hands and he let his mind wander the possibilities. Taking the silence as a signal to proceed, Arthur opened up the book and took a deep breath before chanting the words.

"Santo Rita Meata Mater…" the blonde's words were flooded out as an intense column of violet purple light surrounded Gilbert.

As he opened his eyes, Prussia was immediately blinded by the intensity of the spell. Fearing the worst, the albino closed his eyes again and refocused on his hands. _'Something small.'_ He bit his lips as he tried to concentrate, the Brit's incantation still being casted. His body heat started to escape from him as he felt a weight forming from inside his palms. _'Something small…like a gem..'_ he told himself. The weight became heavier and bigger as he struggled to hold on to the object. He felt a cold shiver travel down his spine as the object took its final form.

Gilbert gave an anguished cry and kneeled forward as his heat was depleted. The light diminished to a glow as the ritual was complete, darkening the room to its previous state. Arthur noticed the albino hunched over on his knees and dropped his book to run over to his side.

"G-Gilbert? Are you ok?" the blonde's voice was filled with concern as he held on to Prussia's shoulders. "I-I'm so sorry if I hurt yo-"his voice was interrupted with the soft laughs of the albino.

"Zhat. . .vas. . .awesome!" Gilbert exclaimed, straightening his back and thrusting his still clasped hands. His back made a solid contact with the ground, grinning madly as he held his hands close. Arthur was baffled and stared at the man disbelievingly.

No words were exchanged between the two men. Feeling the tension in the room, Prussia laughed again and sat up. "Cheer up! I'm ok, see?" he said with his obnoxious smile. "See?" he jumped up from his spot and glanced down at the blonde.

". . ." the European nation slowly rose up, his expression stiff and stern. ". . .you idiot. Did you really think I was worried whether you were hurt? I just didn't want any casualties in my house," he said bitterly.

The Prussian was taken aback. His face was pained, his jaws tightening on the Brit's harsh words. Regardless, the albino still tried to give a smile. "Ja. I guess zhat vould be bad, but I'm too awesome for death a second time!" he said gleefully, though his red eyes revealed a deeper memory he did not wish to resurface.

England bit down on his lips, hesitant to face the other man's face. "Now. What did you make?" he changed the topic.

"Oh ja! Here it is!" the former Tectonic Knight reached out his hands to reveal a smooth, round gem. It had a translucent shimmer to it, enhanced by the violet lighting in the room. The odd green pigment stood out from the albino's pale hands, but it also stood out from the darkness. "Do jou like it?" he asked. His face was almost childlike as he waited for praise of his gift.

Arthur rolled his eyes, but he had to admit it was a fine piece of stone. "Sure. It's a very…unique rock there."

"Keseses~! I knew jou vould like it!" Gilbert exclaimed and grabbed the other nation's hands, putting the gem in his grasp. With a sly grin, the Prussian held the Brit's hands tighter between his own, despite the blonde's baffled look. "It reminds me of those beautiful eyes of jours," he said nonchalantly, gazing into those eyes with interest. "It vas vhat made me realize something special about jou."

"Wha—what?" England tried to pull back, but the albino's grip on him was firm and strong. Was his mind playing tricks on him again? For once, he wished that were true.

As if on cue, Prussia let go of his hands, his smile still plastered on his face. "Vell. It's time for me to go. Bruder vouldn't be happy if I vasn't home by eight," he said sadly before bolting out the room, leaving the European alone. He was left in an utter shock.

It took Arthur a moment to process what happened, glancing over to the opened door. His heart was beating against his chest at an unusual rate and he found himself struggling to breath. It all felt like a dream to him; one that was so unrealistic. He only pulled back into reality as he looked down in his palms and realized it was not a dream.


	5. Unexpected Turn of Events

**Hey guys! So just like I promised, here's the next chapter! ^-^ Now, not following what I said at the beginning in chapter 1, there will be some fanmade characters from this chapter on wards, so I hope that's ok with you guys!**

**All Canon Hetalia characters belong to Himaruya.**

**All Fanmade/OCs belong to their respective creators.**

* * *

It had been days since the Prussian was last spotted. It made Arthur worry a great deal, but why did it matter to him? Gilbert was just another person who he had met. He barely knew anything about the man besides the fact the he was Germany's older brother. So, he shouldn't worry right? Apparently that was not the case.

The blonde paced back and forth from his living room, running his hands through his hair. 'Breath.' He told himself. He felt foolish for needing to remind himself, but there was tight knot in his stomach that made it hard for him. He finally stopped pacing and sat down in his comfy chair in front of the fireplace.

What if something bad happened to the albino? What if he got injured, or ganged up on the way home. "Bullocks. I shouldn't be thinking like this," he muttered to himself and gave an exasperated sigh? Arthur clenched his fists up and started to squirm in his seat. There was a smooth, hard object clasped in his right hand. He started to fiddle with it, rolling it around it his hands.

This little, small rock was nothing of value. It wouldn't be worth anything in the market, yet he still kept it. Perhaps it was because it was the first time anyone has ever given him anything. It didn't exactly surprise him. The day the Prussian came was a first for everything. It was the first time anyone tried his cooking willingly, the first time anyone complimented it, and even the first time he was asked to perform magic. Arthur let out a loud sigh as he tightened his hold on the green gem. It was a sad life indeed if there was that many firsts in a day.

The European bit down on his lips. The reality of being alone in his own home hit him hard. How long has he been a nation? How long has he been living alone? How long has this pain been in his heart? It took England a long time to think of an answer. He had always been alone. He had always been in pain; shattered even. There was a brief time where he wasn't so alone though. But that was who knows how long ago. The blonde nation tried to push back the memories, but it all started to replay itself without his consent.

_"Oh Mr. England! You came to visit me again!" cried a small child._

_"Of course I am! How have you've been?" the great English nation asked. "I'm sorry that I can't visit you more often!" He crouched down to the child, patting his somewhat brown hair. He smiled fondly at the youth._

_"That's alright! You're here now, and that makes me happy!" the child replied, smiling back. His big blue eyes looked up at England. The blonde nation let out a soft chuckle._

_"Being around always relaxes me. You know that, America?" he said, his face beaming._

_Years later, it became clear to the British nation that the little boy was not the same as before. The sweet little boy he met in the woods was not the same one who stood before him, holding the gun to his head._

_"Give me my freedom, England!" America yelled. The once soft, blue eyes now stared at the blonde with hatred and resentment. It took everything England had to keep from breaking down. Where did his precious little brother go? He certainly was not the one behind those glassy eyes that now glare at him. The Brit bit down on his lips and swallowed hard._

_"America. You idiot," England spat harshly, catching the American off guard by charging at him. The tables quickly turned as the younger nation's gun fell to the ground and England's gun pointing at his head. The Brit gave everything up for his colony. He gave up so much time and effort to try and raise this nation, but all he was repaid in bullets and scars._

_Britain looped his finger around the trigger, but he started to feel shaky. The colony gazed at the Brit expectantly, his eyes showing the same innocence he had shown when he was younger._

_"I-I can't. I-I can't do it!" the blonde screamed before collapsing to the ground. "Why? Why can't I do it? Dammit, why!" he cried. Nothing was stopping the tears from falling now. "Why?" he cried, his hands covering his face._

_America swallowed hard. He couldn't stand to see England like this. "You used to be so great. What happened to you?" the former colony asked, wondering the same thought that was going around the Brit's mind. Nonetheless, the boy had won his independence._

Arthur grimaced at the memory. He felt he was in danger of tears again. If only he had known what he did wrong, things may have been different. Perhaps America would have still been here in the house.

The Brit sprang up from his chair. He needed to be somewhere else but here. He needed to take his mind off of things. He pocketed the gem and headed straight to the door. Slowly, he turned the knob and was exposed to the bright sunlight. It was only about twelve in the noon as far as he could tell. He closed the door from behind him and took a deep breath of the crisp, clean air; as clean as the air could get, however, in England.

The Brit strolled around the fair city aimlessly. Chatters from the residents echoed around him as he went through the streets of London. The citizens did not recognize their nation walking about freely, although some still gave Arthur a peculiar glance. Noticing their glare, England let out a small smile and continued walking.

He had nowhere in mind to go, but he soon found himself in front of a little bakery store near the end of the street. His emerald green eyes glance curiously at the windows of the store. Displayed in the front, there was a giant, white frosted cake with little beads and rows of embedded flowers. The intricately designed embroidery around the top of the cake impressed the Brit, thinking of how hard it must have been for the baker.

Lost in his thoughts, England was taken off guard when someone came up from behind him and wrapped an arm around his neck. His eyes became big as he panicked. "What the-"

"Oi. What is little Artie doing in the streets?" asked a husk, Scottish voice. Arthur immediately recognizes the voice and silently swore to himself. Seeing the European's flustered face, the Scottish man smirked. "What? You aren't happy to see me?"

"Of course I'm not happy seeing you, you bloody bastard!" he growled, struggling under the man's wrap.

The Brit's attempt only amused the red headed man even more. His deep, green eyes glinted brightly in the glass of the store, his outfit clearly seen from the reflection. His dark, navy blue uniform stood out from the Brit's green attire, with criss-crossing streaks of white going down his clothes. "That's a little harsh now, dontcha think Artie? I only wanted to visit my.. ._favorite _little brother," the Scottish man explained with some sarcasm.

**_Meanwhile in Germany_**

"Come on bruder! Just let me go visit a friend, ja?" begged the albino.

"Nein bruder," Ludwig said for who knows how many times now. "Jou can't go and visit zhat Britain."

"And how could jou know if I vas going to visit him? Vhat if I vas going to visit Francis? Or Antonio?" the Prussian argued, crossing his arms and staring intensely at his little brother. It didn't quite make sense in his head, seeing as he was the older of the two, yet he had to abide by the German's rules.

The blonde German sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. "Oh please bruder. I can see zhat jou vant to go visit him. Jou have been like a love-sick puppy ever since your first visit there," he stated, glancing up to see a flustered expression on Gilbert's face.

"Vhat? Nein! I have not! Vhat are jou talking about?" The former nation said, a hue of pink shading his cheeks.

Ludwig shook his head disapprovingly. "Don't lie to me, bruder. I know when jou're lying. Now, I forbid you from seeing him," his jaws tightened up, wanting to say some more. "I don't trust him. Just. . .look for someone else. Ja?"

Gilbert shook his head, furious at the younger nation. "Nein! I vill not! Vhy don't jou look for someone else besides that Italian zhen? Hm?" He grinned victoriously, seeing the German's paled face. Though he may have went too far, earning himself a hard slap across the face.

"Do jou not understand I am trying to protect you bruder?!" he fumed. "I vill not have someone take jou away again like zhat forsaken Russia!" Ludwig turned around, facing the wall as he tried to calm down. The blonde rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find words to soothe his naïve brother, but to also relieve him from the stress. "I don't vant jou to see Britain. Simple as zhat. Ja?"

**_Back in England_**

"What are you doing here Allistor!?" Arthur scowled, grimacing at the sight of the auburn haired man. The blonde managed to get out from under his brother's latch and backed up closer to the windows of the bakery.

"Oi. What's with that look?" the man retorted, scowling back with the same intensity of the Brit. "It is a crime for me to come and see you?"

England laughed indignantly, his green eyes prickling in with disbelief at the Scots. "There is always a reason why you come and visit me. You and your drinking habits always bring trouble. Now spill it!" he demanded, his patience growing thin.

Scotland glared down at his incompetent little brother with a sigh. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and took one from it, lighting it up. "Fine. Since you _need _a reason for why I'm here, I'll tell you," he inhaled on the cigar, letting out a light smoke into Arthur's face. He smirked, seeing the blonde flinch and closing his eyes in disgust. "Can't take a little smoke, Artie?"

"Shut up and tell me already!" the European nation snapped, growling and glaring harshly at the Scottish man, increasing with each minute as they stood around.

"Geeze. You need to be more patient, little brother," Allistor said, shaking his head in disappointment. "Anyways, Ireland was quite worried about you, seeing that you haven't been outside of your house in a couple days. How she knows, don't ask me-"he narrowed his eyes, noticing the bored look on Arthur's face. The Brit seemed uninterested in hearing what he has to say, rolling his eyes. "Why you little-"the Scottish man threw down his fists hard to make contact with the blonde's thick head. A muffled cry came from the European as a bit of ash from the cigarette fell on him.

"What was that for, you bloody bastard!" Arthur cursed, rubbing his head and scowling at Allistor. "I'm listening!"

"At least pretend you're listening, you little keech!" he spat. After receiving a grunt from the younger sibling, the Scotsman continued his talk. "Where was I. . ..ah yes. Carlin was worried about you, so she sent me here to see if you were ok-"Arthur made a face, irritating the older nation even more. "You think I wanted to come and see your ungrateful _face_?" Scotland threw down that last remaining of his cigar, and steps on it to extinguish the remaining flames.

England huffed, but was somewhat relieved that at least _someone _was worried about him. He relaxed a bit and sighed. "Well, thank you for your concerns anyways. I am quite fine, as you can see," he said, biting the inside of his lips.

The Scotsman grinned, knowing something is up with Arthur. It was obvious when the Brit was trying to hide something. The tense body, avoiding eye contact, not paying attention, and even the biting were a dead giveaway. "Alright. Who's been on your mind?"Allistor said, cocking his head to the side a little bit.

Arthur paled a little bit, staring up at Scotland with flustered eyes. "W-what? What makes you say that I'm thinking of anyon-" the Brit felt the man's hand rest on his head, weighing him down.

"Come on Artie. Fess up, or I'll make you," Scotland said with a mischief smirk.


End file.
